Rekindling an Old/New Flame
by Mordred LeFay
Summary: Surely Morpheus had more lovers than just the ones Neil Gaiman mentioned. Here's a story about one who we didn't hear about...
1. Prologue

Author's note: The characters, with the exception of Drusilla (who is mine) belong to Neil Gaiman. Just because her name is Drusilla and is a vampire doesn't mean this is a Sandman/Buffy crossover. I don't watch that show anyway. But I love The Sandman and I love Neil Gaiman's work. This is my first attempt at a fanfic, but not my first story ever written, so I hope it is up to my usual standard. I'm not sure I'm all that good at capturing Thessaly's voice, but I did try to capture her aloofness.  
  
I do plan to continue this, but I'm fairly busy and when may be a while from now. I've had this character floating in my mind, and the idea if, what if one of Dream's past lovers tried to get together with his current aspect...  
  
---  
  
"All around me darkness gathers,  
Fading is the sun that shone;  
We must speak of other matters:  
You can be me when I'm gone."  
~Neil Gaiman  
  
---  
  
PROLOGUE  
  
"Have you ever thought of returning?" I asked hesitantly. I turned toward the pile of books I was checking in, avoiding her direct stare.   
  
Thessaly was expressionless, as usual. "What reason would I have to return? He is dead, you realize. Besides, he and I are over. I have had little enough room in my life for men."  
  
I concentrated on my stack. "Well the new incarnation, the former Daniel, is still him, so to speak. And considering he's changed aspects, perhaps he's changed in other ways too." I finished my thought, unsatisfied, feeling like I was head-ramming a wall. Thessaly tends to make me feel that way at times.  
  
"The Endless don't change," she asserted with a sigh. "Besides, I have no interest in rekindling old flames. That part of my career is done with, this time for good, and I shall not miss it." She grabbed my finished pile from me and went off to put the books away.   
  
"Damn. I'm sorry I brought it up," I murmured into my coffee as I took a sip. I felt the warm liquid seep down my throat, hit my stomach, and dissipate. I don't know why I still drink it; it disappears from my system as soon as it enters, since I no longer require the normal mortal nourishment. I suppose I enjoy the old sensations and tastes.  
  
Nostalgia. That's what it was, and that's what this is really about, after all. Nostalgia, memories of the days I spent in the Dream King's realm, in his castle, in his arms and in his bed. In other situations I would dismiss these feelings, knowing that I can't relive the past. Not only do the Endless not change, men don't change, especially men like Morpheus. But he isn't really Morpheus anymore; he's a "new man," literally.   
  
He's not the only one. I am a new woman, really. When Dream first found me, I was little more than a frightened fledgling living in the alleyways, sleeping in abandoned dumpsters by day. And here I am now, a night librarian at a university with a centuries-old witch. The library is beautiful: huge airy ceilings, skylights (the place would be a deathtrap for me by day), light woodwork, modern and comfortable. Sometimes I imagine that I am in Lucien's library again, though that library is very different, yet strangely familiar, as though it is a composite of every library ever known to man, as well as any ever dreamed.  
  
Thessaly returned to the table, nudging me from my reverie. "Why all the questions? Are you thinking about returning?"  
  
I hemmed and hawed, trying to avoid answering. It was embarrassing, really, for a fledgling such as me trying to explain my silly mortal emotions to a centuries-older-and-wiser witch. A real witch, not one of these New Age crystal-worshipers. She power that I could see, could practically smell, now that my transformation has enhanced my previous extra-sensory senses. It clung to her like patchouli on my hippie roommate. She could hide it behind the innocent, young student and part-time librarian facade, but not from me.   
  
"Well?"  
  
"Um... maybe." I shrugged, smiling. Thessaly's eyebrows furrowed above her huge wire-rimmed glasses. She looked like an annoyed owl, those huge disks of glass covering the good majority of her face. She looked like the quintessential librarian  
  
"Well I hate to see you setting yourself up for yet another fall. He has a tendency to emotionally scar his ex-lovers, and not to repeat tired sayings, but, 'fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me,'" Thessaly said casually, pouring some hot water from the kettle on the hot-plate into her teacup.   
  
"I miss him," I muttered.  
  
"Beg your pardon?"   
  
"I miss him," I repeated, louder, feeling my face grow hotter and, I imagined, rosier.   
  
"Hrmph," Thess replied, going about her business. I shuffled some papers and hoped that the whole thing would blow over.  
  
I couldn't resist one last zinger, "You do know he took no other lovers after you?"  
  
I could sense Thess stiffening, but she did not reply. Instead, she asked a question of her own, "You seem mortal, by all reckoning, but since the Endless cannot have romances with mortals..."  
  
"I'm a vampire," I replied.  
  
"That would explain the flush in your cheeks. You have recently fed?" I was shocked at how analytically calm Thessaly sounded.  
  
"Hey, a girl's gotta have dinner," I shrugged, trying to look as casual as she did. "I trust you know enough about my kind to not have to explain everything?"  
  
"Of course," she replied coolly. "I knew what you were, I just wanted confirmation. The mere fact that you never eat and only work the night shift, with me, practically gave it away. That and the blood drying in the corners of your mouth."  
  
I wiped my mouth with a napkin, a bit ashamed of myself for being so careless. Then came her zinger, and of course it was worse than mine:  
  
"Why did he leave you?"  
  
"What makes you think I didn't leave him? There hasn't been a lover of his yet who didn't leave him. He goes back to his work. He is so... male! They chase and chase and chase, then when they have you, they're satisfied and the effort is gone! They think they don't have to try anymore!" I slammed my hand down on the desk. It felt good to vent, especially to someone who would understand.  
  
To my surprise, I saw a spark of empathy in the witch's normally cool gaze. She nodded, "I know. You told me, you confronted him, he begged for another chance---" at this I laughed. I couldn't help myself, to think of Morpheus begging for anything. "---okay, he requested another chance, which you gave him..."  
  
And he fucked up again, I thought.   
  
"But," Thessaly continued, as though she read my mind, "you didn't confront him. Not yet. You wanted a bit of... what do they call it in this day and age? Palimony, of a sort? So one night, during a bit of passionate lovemaking---"  
  
"I bit him. I-I tried to drink his blood," I admitted, covering my eyes with my hand. "I did drink his blood. Only a little bit, but it was enough. I don't know why. For power, for life-essence, to make myself more desirable to him, to steal a bit of him so he wouldn't dare let me go. I-I don't know."  
  
I looked through my fingers at Thessaly. She stood before me, impassively, pensively. I could not read her gaze. I closed my fingers over my eyes again. "I loved him. Surely you understand that. I wanted a part of him, something that he never really gave any of us. All he gave us was surface. He never let us truly have him.  
  
"And yes, he cast me out. He wasn't really as angry as he seemed, but I had violated him. But--but I-I think that he knows that he did wrong."  
  
"Foolish child," Thessaly whispered.   
  
"You loved him too, admit it!" I cried.  
  
"No. I reflected his love for me, like the moon reflects the light of the sun. It seemed to glow as brightly as his own, or at least a compliment to it. But it was not really love." She turned away and began cataloguing volumes.   
  
"You lying bitch!" I screamed. Thessaly whirled, her face perfectly calm, but with a dangerous fire in her eyes. I knew I was treading shaky ground, but I couldn't turn back now. I had released a fount within me and it would not be stopped.  
  
"You let him die. You could have stopped that madwoman, that Hippolyta Hall. You protected her, you let him die, and you dared to shed tears at his wake! You dared!" I yelled. "The Kindly Ones never would have found out, never would have cared."  
  
"I did as I was bound," Thess shrugged, a little too casually. Her shoulders shook, imperceptibly to all but my keen sight. "And, Drusilla, I didn't get this far in life by being nice to people. Nor have you, I take it, judging from the bloodstains on your lips. Besides, as you said, he is not really dead, is he? And possibly is changed for the better. So go and visit if you like, he's all yours... if he is anyone's at all."  
  
"Maybe I will," I muttered, still angry with her, and with myself.   
  
"Keep in mind that he hasn't had much time to adjust-- or readjust -- to his duties. Dragging up the past may not help."  
  
It sure didn't help me just now, did it? I thought. The sun was a half-hour away from rising, just long enough for me to get to my little hole of an apartment and sleep the day away. If I was going to do this, I would be doing it soon. Thess barely noticed my exit; she had a few hours left in her shift. I grabbed my leather coat and left, hands thrust into my pockets, scowling at the few night-owl students who went past. The comfort of my bed, and my dreams, awaited me. And maybe, just maybe, my old love.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED  



	2. Chapter 1 -- What Dreams May Come

Chapter One -- What Dreams May Come  
  
I fell into a stupor as the sun rose outside my heavily draped, daylight-barricaded windows. I dragged myself into bed. In the old days, he would wait for me. Years ago, all I would have to do is close my eyes and he would be standing there expectantly. This time, like the first time, I knew I would have to seek him out.  
  
I remember his first words to me after asking why I was there, that first time when I found myself in his throne room, far from the abandoned dumpster where I huddled in the waking world. I had called him by his true name, Morpheus, the shaper, not just Dream (the idea). He replied in that snooty tone he uses when caught with his guard down, "I do not appreciate an unwarrented excess of familiarity."  
  
But I am his, and always was. He is the Prince of Stories, and I am forever a storyteller at heart. Though the bloodlust binds me to Desire and my taking of life to Death, I am first and foremost his.   
  
As I settled into my soft bed, I began to be assailed by my own doubts. Why would he remember me? I thought. He has met countless dreamers. I do not know how many lovers he has taken, nor how memorable any individual one of us would be. I admit my jealousy for Thessely: out of all of his lovers, she was not only the least attractive but also the most vicious to Morpheus after the fact of their breakup, yet she was the one for whom he seemed to have pined the most.   
  
But I was still the most special; I had his blood. Not much, but then again, anything of the Endless is much more than it seems. Those few drops of his blood within me would reveal to him who I was, and perhaps aid me in finding him.  
  
I could feel myself sink heavily into sleep, a great velvet blackness that embraced and paralyzed me. Vampiric sleep is nothing like the mortal sleep I once knew. It is more akin to a sedative-induced slumber than a natural loss of consciousness. I fell into a familiar recurring dream where I am chased by psychotic clowns. I pushed it away with surprising ease.   
  
Not many dreamers come to Dream's castle or see the true landscape of the Dreaming (as opposed to the fantasmal landscapes of their dreams and nightmares) except by invitation or by sheer accident. Sheer accident was how I found it in the first place; Morpheus' will was the only reason I used to land in the Dreamtime without fail. Even those such as myself, who learned the secrets of lucid dreaming and controlling our dreams, could not find the hidden realm of Morpheus if he did not wish us to.  
  
My tiny drops of Endless blood would change all of that.  
  
As I swirled in the gray void, I called upon the blood mentally, feeling the dream-stuff of it begin to shimmer the dream-stuff of the void around me. I closed my eyes and visualized Dream's castle as I remembered it. I felt unreality shift and twist around me and, opening my eyes, found myself before the castle.  
  
It was unlike the castle I remembered, but I knew undeniably that it was Dream's. The air felt lighter than I remembered, the sky a bit brighter. The castle that stood before me was not the dark and vaulted gothic monstrosity of my former dreams, but a vision of delicate pale-gray spires and colorful stained-glass windows. "At least he didn't go totally opposite and pick the pink My Little Pony theme," I chuckled to myself. I approached the gate nervously, glancing up at the three guardians: the hippogriff, the dragon, and the griffon. I did not dare to think that they might let me in without questioning, as they may have in the old days. One thing was definite: no matter what freedoms one enjoyed as Dream's lover, as soon as you walked out that door, it was shut and barred behind you.  
  
"Who stands at the gates of our master?" the three spoke in a voice that was three, blended into one melody.   
  
"I don't expect you to remember me," I answered, my voice shaking slightly. "I was your master's lover some years past, before his death and... shifting of aspect. I am Drusilla."  
  
"What is it that you require here?"  
  
"I wish for an audience with your master, if he is not otherwise occupied. I merely wished to-- to catch up, to recount old times, perhaps." I shrugged.  
  
"I will notify him," the hippogriff replied.   
  
After a moment, the creature inclined its head toward me, "My master is pleased to entertain you in his humble abode, and awaits you within, milady." The doors swung open soundlessly, slowly as if bearing a great weight. "Stay to the path shown to you. There are powers and creatures that could be very dangerous to you, and the master cannot help you should you stray from your path."  
  
"I thank you," I murmered. I knew all too well this warning, and I was definitely going to heed it. I stepped inside, feeling a breeze as the doors swung shut behind me, leaving me in darkness.   
  
The hall in front of me began to glow, lighting the path I was to take. On either side of this was darkness. I followed, dazzled by this place I had left so long ago. After some time I came to another set of doors, these ones of crystal, carved with an ever-shifting relief of dream-scenes. These did not open at my approach, and I raised my fist to knock.  
  
Before my hand could make contact, the doors opened to reveal a throne room of breathtaking whiteness. This was not the dark and shadowed room I remembered, but more like a photographic negative of the original. Where once was black, now was white, and upon the throne in the midst of the room sat a man a barely recognized: the new and former King of Dreams. 


	3. Chapter 2 -- How Things Change

"Facets, Matthew. Each facet catches the light in its own way. It glints and sparkles and flashes uniquely. It would almost be possible to believe that the facet *was* the jewel; not just a tiny part of it. But then, as we move the jewel another facet catches the light."   
  
~Morpheus, "The Kindly Ones"  
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Chapter 2 - How Things Change  
  
Author's note: Yes I am aware of how I have paraphrased or nearly quoted a few lines from The Wake in this chapter. Don't flame me for it. They sound good, they fit well (who am I to try and "improve" Neil's words?) and it's not like I'm plagiarizing the whole thing so..calm down.  
Also, if Dream seems OOC...well that's the point. He doesn't act like Morpheus because he's not.  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Greetings, Drusilla," Dream said in a voice much warmer than I would have expected. I expected the icy chill of iron doors barred shut in my face. My shoulders relaxed even as the butterflies in my guts intensified their frantic dance.   
  
"My lord," I replied shakily, thinking to bow. He rose from his throne and walked to me. I remained bent low, my head raised to look at him. His touch startled me, his cool hand gently lifting my chin. I rose to stand before him, and he swept me into a friendly embrace.  
  
"It's good to see you again," he whispered. I froze, my arms around this almost-stranger. This was not the Dream King I remembered. This was not Morpheus, who never would have greeted me so warmly, embraced me so tenderly, or *gasp* spoken in contractions.   
  
He drew away from me and nodded, understanding. "Things change, Drusilla. I know this is strange for you, but not nearly as strange as it is for me."  
  
He half turned and gazed into the distance, and I knew that I was in for one of his musings. I smiled, my mouth a half-curve, finally on some familiar ground. He spoke: "I am still me. I always was and always will be. Before I died, I told myself many things. One of those things had to do with facets. The facet is still of the same jewel, but no facet reflects light in the exact same way as another." He fingered a large emerald pendent as he spoke. "Do you understand?"  
  
"I-- I think so," I stammered. "Did you tell yourself of..."  
  
"Of you and me? I didn't have to. I know. I am a facet, still part of the jewel. The jewel is where the knowledge, memories, and power resides. Oh, not this jewel," he clarified, indicating his pendent. "I speak metaphorically. This jewel is merely a tool. I know that one day I will have to smash the emerald. You like it, do you? You always liked emeralds better than rubies." He smiled again. All this smiling was throwing me off. I can't remember Morpheus ever smiling, no matter how pleased he was. Nor was he ever this pleased to see me, at least not outwardly.  
  
He stood still in a patch of light that streamed from the window. All this white was blinding me, but there was something clean and pure about it, as though all of the angst Dream collected as Morpheus had been washed away, a fresh start. Dream himself was pure white: pale skin as always, but his ragged mop of hair was platinum, his eyes still deep and shadowed pools of night. He looked a bit younger, fresher. His robes were immaculately ivory. I felt out of place, a black speck marring the perfection. Suddenly I missed the old Morpheus, missed him fiercely, and the castle where I blended in quite well among the shadows.  
  
"Come," he said, beckoning, "let us have something to eat." I took his offered hand and we stood suddenly in a banquet hall. At least he still had a touch for the lavish and overwhelming. I felt disoriented by this blend of old and new; details that were familiar and comforting contrasted with things that clearly did not represent the Morpheus I knew.  
  
Taramis did not so much as blink when I asked for a goblet of warm blood. Dream ordered a small garden salad and toast. Then we looked awkwardly at each other, waiting for the food to arrive. I wondered what he thought when he looked at me. Did he see the woman he once loved? Did he even feel like the same being he was then? And what exactly was I looking for, anyway?  
  
Dream laughed. I was stunned. His laughter was beautiful, and I knew somehow that it was the same laugh he always had, only he never used it before. "This is so strange, forgive me," he apologized. "It's so strange meeting people for the first time, people I have met before. I met my brothers and sisters, and I was so afraid. It has become easier. Death has been wonderful to me, even though I know she feels perhaps the most out of sorts about this.  
  
"And now I meet you again, and I know you do not know what to make of me," he said. I nodded and said nothing. The food came, and Dream picked at his thoughtfully. I sipped my blood, the captured vitality of it relaxing me a bit. "Why did you seek me out, Drusilla? And how?"  
  
I bit my lip. "I missed you, to be honest. No matter what you had done in the past, or what had transpired, I missed you."  
  
"And you return to find me changed."  
  
"No, it is still you." I was certain of that now. No matter how he looked or how he acted, it was still the same Dream. I could see it in his eyes. The mere fact that he hadn't brushed me off, citing excuses such as pressing matters that needed dealing with, made me think that maybe the thing that needed changing the most had changed. "Even though I expected you to be deep in your work by now."  
  
"I am," he replied. "Death has been good to me, and she gives me much advice. I met with... the Prodigal... during my wake. He gave me advice too, and for the first time I have been listening." He rested his fingers against his chin and gazed into the distance. "My sister is right. We have all the time there is. And Destruction is correct also. Things will not fall apart if I shift my notice from them. I have my responsibilities, and I become quite consumed in them, and I enjoy them, but they do not rule me." He smiled again, and this time I smiled back.   
  
"You rule dreams, they don't rule you," I said. The blood in my goblet had gone cold, and I pushed it aside.  
  
"I think perhaps I was too burnt out and set in my ways before. But I am...well reborn, you could say," he mused. "It forced me to change, to rethink. I have spent much time examining my past mistakes. I believe that the path I am following for now is best."  
  
"I'm glad to hear it," I replied. I was grinning now. My heart began to flutter, and suddenly I realized I was falling in love with him all over again.  
  
"It is approaching nightfall in your part of the waking world," Dream said softly, almost regretfully. He stood, pushing out his chair. I stood as well.  
  
"I ought to leave. I'm working with Thess again." As soon as I said it, I regretted it. A flash of pain crossed his face at the mention of her name. "You still love her, don't you?"  
  
"No... I just regret. I should not, but I have been regretting many things lately that I did."  
  
"Do you still love me?" I whispered, half hoping he wouldn't hear me.   
  
"I-- I think I must do," the Dream King replied, his lips curving slightly.   
  
"Even after what I did? That's how I found your place again, you know." I looked at my feet, sheepish. "I used the blood."  
  
"Drusilla," he began, taking me in his arms again, "It is past. Yes, you stole a bit of me, but I forgive you. I was angry at the time, but, as I said, I have been thinking much lately."  
  
"I have to go," I said, leaning my head on his chest, closing my eyes, amazed that I was here again. It was like a dream. It was a dream. But it was real, still, somehow.  
  
"Will you return?" Dream asked. I nodded. He inclined his head and softly pressed his lips against my forehead. "I am glad."  
  
My eyes opened and I was in my room once more, Dream's kiss still warm on my forehead. Thessaly was not going to believe this.  
  
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To be continued...eventually :)  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 3 -- Facets

"I know you are *you*, my lord, but are you also him?"  
  
"I do not follow, Hippogriff."  
  
"Our lord would not have done as you are doing. In all the years I served him, he did not touch me."  
  
~The Sandman "The Wake"  
-----------------------------------------------  
  
Chapter 3 -- Facets  
  
"So, how was your meeting?" Thessaly asked casually, trying to hide the interest from her voice. She was as placid and cool as ever on the surface, but I knew that she was itching with curiosity.  
  
I took my time in answering her. The tingling excitement of new love spread through my body like a fever. The butterflies of excitement in my stomach killed my appetite; I had to force myself to feed. On the way to work, I had supped lightly on the alcohol-laden blood of a half-drunk sorority sister, leaving her weak but alive. I suspected that the alcohol in her blood was increasing the intoxicating effect on me.  
  
I could tell that Thess was impatient even though she would sooner die than show it. A few straggling students filtered out of the library; a few had fallen asleep over their books, their weary heads nestled into the pages of the voluminous tomes. Seeing that there was no one around, I smiled a secret smile and decided to answer my collegue.  
  
"You are right: he isn't Morpheus," I sighed, my back to her, feigning disappointment. I could hear her indrawn breath, ready to sing out "I told you so" in her cold and superior tone. I half turned, grinning crookedly and showing just a bit of fang.  
  
"But I don't mind one bit," I finished. I was so happy I could cackle. Thessaly raised her left eyebrow at me.  
  
"So, you two hit it off, I take it? And," she said, in a disinterested, conversational tone, "how does this Dream King differ from our Morpheus?"  
  
I didn't quite like the tone of her question. Something about it hit me as wrong, as if this Dream was in no way related to the other Dream, as though some totally new entity had taken his place. "He is still deep-thinking, brooding, and consumed in his work, but he is more open and relaxed now."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"He is warmer, friendlier. I... I like it." I smiled.  
  
"Hrmph. Doesn't sound like the Dream I know," Thessaly began sorting through stacks of books from the return basket, sorting them into neat categories on the rolling cart.   
  
The sudden slam of the library doors distracted us, making me jump. Thessaly just glanced up, calm as you please, and turned to wheel the cart through the endless shelves of books. Standing at the door, her hair a little damp from the sprinkles of rain that were starting to fall, was a small, thin, mousy-looking girl. She clutched a teardrop-shaped crystal pendent and wore, awkwardly, the clothes of any normal student. Her thin brown hair was wilting from the moisture.  
  
"I- I'm sorry, I should have caught the door, but the wind..." she apologized.  
  
"Nuala?" I asked. A small smile flitted across her face, and she awkwardly tucked a lock of hair behind a pointed ear. The elf came over to the desk, glancing around nervously.  
  
"Yes, how did you know?" she asked me, practically whispering. Nuala had come to the Dreaming some time after I left.   
  
"I told her about you," Thessaly cut in. I hadn't even heard her approach. I gave her a sharp look but she didn't notice. "It's nice to see you are well, Nuala. You still have my gift I see." Thess indicated the crystal. Nuala nodded.  
  
"Nuala, Drusilla here has visited the new Dream King, and has been wondering why none of us have as well," Thess mentioned, smirking slightly.   
  
"Really? Why did you go back?" Nuala asked.   
  
"I missed him. I still love him, and I wanted to see how much he'd changed," I replied, feeling uncomfortable with the whole conversation.   
  
"Changed? Morpheus didn't change, he has been replaced." Nuala frowned. I repeated my jewel analogy for her benefit.  
  
Nuala looked pensive. "I- I think I have an answer for you then. You love Dream. We love Morpheus. If the essence of Dream is like a jewel, with facets, then I guess we liked the way the light reflected of a particular facet. And this facet, this new Dream, is not the same one."  
  
"Very right, Nuala. He may be Dream, but he's not my former lover. He isn't my anything," Thessaly sniffed, sounding fairly snobbish.   
  
"You two are right, but I don't feel the same way," I admitted. "Maybe I like this facet more. I don't know. It is an interesting blend of the old and the new. I thought I was rekindling an old flame when it is more like starting a new one. I think it's better for me that he isn't Morpheus."  
  
Nuala smiled and laid a hand on my arm, comfortingly. "If you are happy, Drusilla, then by all means, embrace it."  
  
Thessaly snorted, surprising me. "Well you'll not be getting any competition from *me* anyway."  
  
Nuala checked out a book on fairytales and bid her farewells; Thess and I got back to work, hardly speaking. The night went by quickly, as I had hoped. I was eager to return to the Dreaming. As I was grabbing my jacket and purse to leave, Thessaly grabbed my arm.   
  
"Drusilla, I will give you a piece of advice," she said earnestly. Her arrogance was gone, and she seemed sincere enough, so I listened. "Do not make the same mistake, the mistake that all of us save Calliope and Nada made. If you are right, and he is as involved in his work as Morpheus was, it is not a good idea for you to stay there. He will not leave his work to be with you every moment, and it is nearly impossible to have a life of your own in the Dreaming. When you find yourself spending days alone, it will get to you. You will be installed in his domain, and he will feel he has you and does not have to work to keep you."  
  
"What are you suggesting, Thess?" I asked.  
  
"Stay here. Visit him every night, keep it special like that. The threat of mortal men and the lack of proximity will keep him chasing you. That is the only way I can see it working out between the two of you," she said. A rare smile found its way onto her face. "And I do mean this, Drusilla, if anyone can find happiness with Dream, which I am not sure is possible, it should be you."   
  
"I'm touched!"  
  
"And I am serious. I never really knew any of Dream's other lovers, but all the time I have worked with you, you have been very tolerable, pleasant, and a hard worker. I admire that in you." Thessaly took a deep breath, let it out, and turned back to her work, finished her speech. She seemed a bit uncomfortable with her outburst, unused to showing any emotion besides cold logic.   
  
"Thank you, Thessaly," I said, smiling. She shrugged. No big deal.   
  
"So I take it you won't be taking a leave of absence then?" she asked, efficient and brisk once more.  
  
"No, I think I'll stay on here," I assured her.   
  
"Good," she said coolly. "It would be difficult finding another person who keeps hours like you."  
  
"Goodnight, Thess." I waved as I took my leave.  
  
"Pleasent dreams," she called after me.  
  
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Stay tuned for the next installment...and the exciting conclusion!!!! :D  



	5. Epilogue

"Never has one loved me enough to seek me out."   
  
~The Sandman "The Doll's House"  
  
---------------------------  
  
Epilogue  
  
It has been said that love is no part of the Dreamworld, for love is of Desire's realm, and Desire is always cruel. This, I have learned, is false. Anything that can be dreamed is a part of the Dreaming. Dreams, after all, when thought of in terms of goals, can also be desires, and in that way Dream's realm includes the realms of all of his siblings. Dreams can signify hidden desires, foretell destinies. They can encourage someone to destroy, and cause others to die. Delirium can be seen as a waking dream, and dreams can certainly cause madness, as well as Despair. So there is no reason that Dream cannot love me of his own accord.  
  
I said this to myself for reassurance as I closed my eyes that night, waiting for sleep, and Dream, to ease my mind. I could not say that I was entirely secure in my decision. I mentally went over Dream's past romantic mishaps. I had already been one of them.  
  
My course was clear, however, and I know I had to follow my heart, without worrying if it was some plot of Desire's. I had a feeling that it would not be as bent on destroying Dream. *Things do change* I thought to myself. I had seen that for myself.  
  
I arrived, not at Dream's doorway, but in his private chambers. I smiled at the thought of the Dream King preparing a romantic evening, but there it was in front of me, complete with candlelight and wine. At least he had the decency not to be sprawled on the bed in a parody of seductive perfume ads. Actually, he was nowhere to be found.  
  
"Dream?" I called, hesitantly. Pale arms encircled me from behind as a tender kiss was planted on the back of my neck. I jumped, startled.   
  
"I am sorry. I did not mean to startle you," he apologized, but he was laughing.   
  
"Of course you did, Mr. Grand Entrance!" I accused him playfully. "What is all this?"  
  
"I wanted to welcome you properly," he replied, taking my hand and leading me to the little table. Taramis was nowhere to be found, and Dream poured the wine himself. "I gave explicit instructions that we are not to be disturbed," he explained.  
  
We enjoyed the wine and little appetizers, talking about inconsequential things. Finally, I couldn't help myself. I asked him what had been on my mind since our last meeting. "Dream, out of all of your former lovers, why do you still love me?"  
  
He fell silent, thinking. Turning his head to the side, he gave a wry smile and a half-shrug, something totally out of character but incredibly charming. "Never has anyone loved me enough to seek me out after my death. I return, and everyone treats me as though I am a stranger. I know I *am*; everything is as much a stranger to me as I am to it, but no one seems to want to trust me, to talk to me, or get to know me. Even Death, my sister, who was always closest to me, seems too busy to visit. I think she feels uncomfortable. The only one who seems to understand is Despair, of course, since she has been through the same thing herself, but even then..." he trailed off. "But you are different. You love the 'jewel'."   
  
"That is exactly it," I replied. "You are still Dream, the Dream I love." I leaned forward, stroked his cheek, and kissed him.   
  
"I love you too, Drusilla," he whispered, returning my kiss with all the passion I remembered. He led me, his lips still pressed to mine, to the bed. We made love quietly, slowly rediscovering each other, the old and the new, familiar and strange, thrilling and comforting. His skin was cool and soft, his touch gentle yet intoxicating. The act was more wonderful, more fulfilling, and more full of love than it ever was with other lovers of mine, before and after my vampiric rebirth. I felt so heart-rendingly in love with him, so much that it hurt, blissed out of my mind in a way I'd never known. Afterward we lay, trembling and exultant, in each other's arms, Dream softly whispering promises into my ear.  
  
"I will give you worlds of your own, strung like precious jewels on a golden chain. I will give mortals dreams of your stories so mankind will never forget. They will tell them to their children, passing them down as legends forever into time..." he continued on. I lay contently, yet remembering that I had heard this all before. My ardor began to cool slightly.  
  
Then, he surprised me completely.  
  
"I will love you and cherish you always. I will make time each day for you. I will include you in my work so you can share in ruling my kingdom as my queen. I will--"  
  
"You will?" I exclaimed, sitting up in surprise.  
  
"Of course," he replied, confused. "You have some of my blood, so I'm sure that with my help you can craft at least a few nightmares and such, or at least help with the creative idea process.."  
  
"No, I meant the other part. Putting aside time for me," I said.  
  
"Drusilla," Dream replied, "I would be a fool to risk losing you again." He kissed my forehead and held me tightly. I could sense his love for me, and it was as deep and true as mine for him. Yet, I knew how Dream was. I knew that he loved passionately and with all his being... yet things could still change in the blink of an eye or faster. I remembered Thessaly's advice, and despite what Dream said, I knew that it held merit.   
  
"Let's see how things go before I agree to live here with you," I suggested. Dream nodded.  
  
"You're right. We should not rush into things. Besides, we have all the time in the world, you and I." Dream laid his head back on the silken pillows. "As long as you stay out of the sun, my love."  
  
"If you stay away from the Kindly Ones," I replied tartly. Dream smirked and pulled me down beside him, gathering me into his arms.  
  
"Deal," he agreed. I laid my head down on Dream's shoulder and closed my eyes, drifting slowly into peaceful sleep, and dreams of what may come.   
  
------------------------------ El fin ---------------------------------  
  
Author's end note: Well boys and girls, that's the end. It may be corny, but I thought it was sweet! I'm glad to have at least made Daniel/Dream about as unstuffy as they come compared to Morpheus (which may delight or anger some, depending). I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought!!!  
  
~Mordred 


End file.
